


Fuyuki Kiwami - Caster Everywhere

by GayestCuChulainnFan



Category: Fate/Grand Order, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms, 龍が如く | Ryuu ga Gotoku | Yakuza (Video Games)
Genre: Drabble Collection, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Friends With Benefits, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Parody
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-27
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2019-12-18 14:50:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18252056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GayestCuChulainnFan/pseuds/GayestCuChulainnFan
Summary: Archer encounters Caster in the strangest of places.





	1. Provocation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hezzabeam](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hezzabeam/gifts).



> This is a series of vignettes, and they probably won't be in chronological order. Also, I'm writing them out of order, so the chapter numbers will change a lot.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Archer and Caster have their usual fight.

I'm in a city covered in eternal flames. I have no idea who I am or how I got here. I have an unfounded desire to fight. I believe that's what they call instinct...

I walk down the streets of the strange, hellish city. Something's wrong. Maybe it's the same reason my left eye hurts.

Somehow, I find a puddle in this inferno. Looking into it, I see my image, clouded by mud. My left eye is yellow, with a black sclera. Gash-like streaks run down my cheek. My dark-skinned hand instinctively goes to my face.

"You're awake, Archer." A wry greeting. Archer is...my name?

I look up. Farther down the destroyed road is a man in a blue bodysuit—no, he dons pale robes. That strange outfit must have been a hallucination from the smoke and heat-haze of the flames around us. He puts down his hood, revealing long, blue hair let down in a mullet. A breeze sweeps through the area, making it dramatically rise. In his hand is an intricately-crafted wooden staff.

There's something about this man—his aura, or something—that makes me want to attack him. It's the same instinct that I felt as soon as I woke up. I'm still confused, but there's one thing I know for sure. This man is a worthy opponent for me. The aggression I feel when I look at him is more like competitiveness. I think...I'm actually quite fond of him?

My instincts tell me that I know this person. That we've met like this before. On the grounds of a school. In a descending elevator.

"Pathetic. You've been corrupted by Mud." The insult feels empty, but it pisses me off. I don't know why, but I want to kill him. I let my instincts take over.

"Trace, on." My hands are filled with two familiar weights. The other man's grin widens like a beast snarling. He spins his staff and crouches, holding it like a spear. I, too, assume a battle stance. "Let's go, Caster!"


	2. Quota

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Caster has an arrangement with Archer in lieu of a Master-Servant contract.

"Took you long enough," I admonish Caster as he walks into the abandoned school. It's ten minutes past our agreed meeting time.

"Sorry, I had to deal with a few skeletons." His staff disappears into blue dust.

"Just get it over with." I dematerialize my armor's collar and bare my neck.

There's a few minutes of silence as he harvests my mana. There's no words to be said. This is simply a matter of necessity. Caster has no Master, so I, who stays in this world because of the Mud, must periodically provide him with some. No strings attached. At least I hope there aren't any.

This time is taking longer than usual, though. I have to get back to Saber soon, or she'll start to suspect that something's off. After all, Caster and I are supposed to be enemies. There's also the fact that I need to recharge my own mana.

"Are you done yet?" I try to pull him off. He grunts indignantly.

Our eyes meet. "You know, Archer, that little skirmish with the skeletons took a bit out of me," Caster smirks, running his hand up my thigh. "And I think we have a bit more time until you have to go back to Saber..."

As he gets down on his knees, I reflect on the lust in his gaze. Maybe there are some strings attached, after all.


	3. Reminiscence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Archer visits his childhood home.

The sound of the front door sliding open strikes a bright chord in my clouded memories. Finally free of Saber's watchful gaze, I take a chance to stretch as I enter my childhood home.

Almost by instinct, I open my mouth. "Tadai-" the word dies off in my mouth. Right. My "family" is dead, consumed by the raging Grail War of this flame-contaminated city.

My shoulders feel bare. It's been so long since I last wore that red coat. If I donned it now, its meaning of loyalty would be lost. After all, I'm not loyal to Saber at all. The only reason I stay with her is for my own survival.

I don't bother turning on the lights—the War has also taken away electricity.

Sticking close to one of the walls, I walk down the hall. The gentle brush of my finger against the wood slowly brings back memories corrupted by the influence of the Grail's Mud. Blurry faces surface in my mind.

Sakura. Rin. Taiga. Illya. Saber, before the Mud. And finally, sitting exactly where I last remember him, Kiritsugu.

That's right. That's where he told me about his ideals. That's where he died, succumbing to the curse of Angra Mainyu. Although, one thing seems off. My father often smoked, but I don't think he smoked then.

I blink, and the black mop turns into a luscious blue mullet. Dark kimono becomes pale druid robes.

"What. The fuck. Are you doing here?"

Caster lazily turns to look at me. There isn't a single trace of white in his sclerae. His lips are upturned in a vacant smile. I can only imagine how high he is.

"Hey, Archer," he raises the cig in his hand. "Care to join me?"


	4. Samhain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saber sends Archer to investigate the church.

When Saber said "strange lights and noises," I was expecting something out of a horror film. Instead, I found a heavy metal concert.

Each of the church's windows emits a beam of bright, multi-colored light. The stone path vibrates with the loud music. I can feel the bass reverberating from the tips of my toes to the top of my head. I'm kind of scared to see what's going on inside.

The church's interior is a mosh pit. I wade through a throng of bones to get to the front. Dozens of pews have been knocked over, and the ones still standing have become places for hyped-up skeletons to rave.

The place where the evil priest used to preach is now the stage where this fiasco's ringleader blasts notes on a wooden lyre. Caster's eyes are screwed shut in concentration as he scream-sings in incomprehensible Gaelic. He wildly headbangs to the beat of the music, making his blue hair fly everywhere.

Then, I realize what day it is. It's October 31st—Samhain. It's only natural that he's rocking out tonight.

The song reaches its climax; Caster's fingers become a blur as he riffs and shreds the strings. The tune is intense enough to rock out to, but it somehow seems to have a Celtic lilt to it. It makes me want to dance.

The speed and volume climb to inhuman levels until a final, resounding chord. Caster throws his head back and lets it resound, coming down from his high. The runic spotlights illuminate his face, reflecting off bullets of perspiration running down in torrents.

Around me, there's a clatter of carpals striking against each other in a chilling, skeletal applause. I can't help but join in with fervent claps and hoots.

While the encore dies down, Caster takes a swig of beer from a can next to him. Finishing it, he crushes it against his sweaty forehead. He looks directly below him, smirking at me, and I realize that I'm at the forefront of the crowd.

"Yo, Archer," he jumps off the makeshift stage to join me, holding two beers. Then, he turns back to yell at a dragon tooth warrior on the stage. "Méabh, go wild!"

The skeleton in question goes to the organ and starts playing.

Like a gun being shot in a race, chaos breaks out in the chapel once more. The skeletons and dragon tooth warriors around us start jumping along to the cacophonous sound. The speed and style are unsuited to the organ's timbre, and every chord is dissonant, but Caster seems to be too high on the thrill of the festival to care. He moshes along with the undead warriors, cheering and grinding against me.

Ah, what the hell. I take one of the cans from Caster's hand and raise it with a cheer. "Happy Samhain!" I holler.

We tap the tops of our beers against each other in a toast. Looks like I'm letting go tonight.


	5. Time Temple

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Archer and Caster meet once more in the final battle.

I can barely believe my eyes. This gathering of Heroic Spirits is surely nothing like humanity has ever seen before. There are dozens of legendary heroes from every Singularity preparing to aid Ritsuka and Mashu in their fight against the Demon Pillars. But even though I see warriors as famous as Heracles, I only have eyes for a certain one.

There! A familiar presence! I navigate the crowd with surprising fervor, going towards the mana signature. The subconscious excitement from the prospect of seeing this idiotic man mystifies me. This man was once my rival, but now I find myself undeniably desiring his companionship. Not for the first time, I realize that our relationship has evolved greatly since our first meeting.

I follow my senses until I accidentally bump into a large figure. The signature I felt is definitely this Servant. Strange. I remembered that man being closer to my height and donning paler robes. And he definitely didn't have a tail. Or a large, imposing spear. Or massive muscles. Or beautiful, red tattoos.

My scanning eyes travel up the man's body until they meet a familiar shade of red. Four dark blue bangs overshadow his formidable gaze. The same eyes that belonged to that man are now staring down at me from a different body. This is definitely the one I'm looking for, but at the same time, he isn't.

"Cú Chulainn?" I cock my head in confusion. The large Servant grunts. That voice is unmistakably his, but the timbre lacks the same energy I remembered in Fuyuki. I continue my question expectantly. "Caster?" The man raises an eyebrow and turns back around.

Before I can ask anyone if they've seen the blue-haired Caster, the group splits to make room for the Master and their Servant. The others whisper amongst themselves. Apparently, the plan is to show ourselves in groups by Singularity. That would mean Fuyuki is first.

I step out of the crowd as the sole representative of the Flame-Covered City, facing Ritsuka and Mashu. They've changed greatly since the last time I saw them. It's only natural that they have. Maturing and becoming stronger were necessary for surviving the seven Singularities that came after mine. Beyond the new outfits, they carry a more confident air about them. It's wildly different from the inexperienced Master-Servant pair that killed me in Singularity F.

Seeing them sparks a pang of longing within me. It's a shame that Caster isn't here to see them now. He was their first guide and companion. He, more than anyone, deserves to see their growth.

Once they come closer to me, I take a knee. My attendance clearly surprises them, and I don't hold it against them. "Servant Archer, Nameless. Unfortunately, I am still corrupted by the Grail's mud, but I no longer intend to be in your way. Now that I am free from Saber's supervision, I choose to fight for humanity." I look up to see that the pair is still suspicious of me.

"Trust him, he's being serious," a smooth voice comes to my aid. My head snaps to my side. Caster's been here the whole time. He looks down at me and smirks. "So you wanted to see me, after all, didn't you?"

"You've been masking your presence with runes, you asshole!"

"That's not a no," he winks. I indignantly get up to a standing position to argue with him, only for him to pull me into a deep french kiss. When we break apart, I'm left completely breathless. "I missed you, Archer."


	6. Weed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Archer and Caster take a new step in their relationship.

Standing outside the school building, I wonder when things changed. It used to be that this man would appear wherever I went, but now, I actively seek him out.

I face north and scan the ground, using myself as a sundial. If I had a watch or clock, I would use it, but the fires had destroyed all the shops in Fuyuki; even if I had one, batteries would be unavailable.

My shadow makes a 120-degree angle with north—it's around 4 pm. Broad daylight, but I'm out and about. It's not like there's civilians to see, nor is there a church to monitor us. Saber will slumber in the cave beneath Mount Enzou until night falls. Ironically, daytime has become the only time I'm free.

I circle around to the back of the school. I know he'll be there for sure, especially today.

As expected, he's standing in a stoner's summoning circle. Hundreds of cigarettes placed in an intricate mandala, with one Hound of Ulster at its center. I don't even have to count to know there's 420 addictive cylinders in the arrangement.

He takes one look at me and winks. God. There's space for two in the nucleus. The seductive bastard.

Entering the circle, I take a moment to admire Caster's handiwork. The circle's composition is truly amazing. My eyes get lost in the swirling patterns of white and tan. I get dizzy turning to see every part of the mesmerizing design. Finally, I come face-to-face with Caster himself, the bright red of his eyes a shocking contrast to the dull hues of the cigs.

He licks his lips. It's time. He solemnly raises his right arm, pointing to the sky. I follow it with my eyes, watching as an orange-red light comes out of his finger, tracing a line into the air above it. After a certain point, its path sharply turns, coming back down at an angle. The final stroke of the rune is made parallel to the second line.

Ansuz. The Nordic rune representing magic. Caster is so skilled at the art of rune magecraft that this single glyph can be used to cast breathtaking spells. He doesn't even need to chant its name. The second rune is left unspoken, as well, even undrawn. In my mind, I add the rune of fire, Kenaz, shaped like the hiragana ku, next to the Ansuz.

There's a dramatic pause. Then, the innermost circle of the motif lights up. In succession, the fires spread outwards like a line of dominoes being knocked over. Before I can see the smoldering circle's completion, my senses are assaulted by smoke.

I look up again to see Caster's eyes shining through the haze. I don't know if it's the cannabis talking, or if it's just forcing my inhibitions to fall away, but that bright red is savagely enchanting. I can tell that he's thinking the same thing. We lean closer and closer, until-

On April 20th, 2004, at 4:20 pm, Caster and I shared our first kiss.


End file.
